


A Merry Mnyama Christmas

by CrossingInStyle



Series: The Legend of Mnyama [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: And Belle's an adorable Christmas elf, Christmas Fluff, F/M, He's a sweet little woobie, Rum's POV, Smut, tarzan au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 01:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13089969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossingInStyle/pseuds/CrossingInStyle
Summary: Set six months after the events of Mnyama, Belle introduces Rum to Christmas.





	A Merry Mnyama Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to all my wonderful readers! This is just a little gift to you, as thanks for all your awesome comments and support of Mnyama!
> 
> It also fills a prompt from Anonymous on Tumblr:  
> "Can I prompt Belle & Rum having more sexytimes together? Maybe trying a different position?"
> 
> Your wish is my command! Enjoy!

Thinking about how much his life had changed irrevocably in just a few scant months was staggering.

He’d gone from a quiet, simple, predicable life to one full of danger, fear, worry…

He wouldn’t go back to his old life for _anything_ in the world.

Because six months ago, he’d gained a world full of words, and knowledge, and new experiences, and smiles, and…

_Belle._

_Rum_ , as named so by her, remembered well the very first time he laid eyes on Belle, so many years ago, when she was just a little thing.

 

_Sixteen years ago…_

_He was foraging for food, passing morsels over to Bae when Mother came crashing out of the leaves, eyes wide in distress._

_It took only a few grunts and gestures for him to understand. Mother had found a human Young, lost and alone in the Jungle._

_It struck something deep in his heart, a little human at the mercy of the Jungle and all of its dangers, just as he had been so long ago._

_He nudged his mother comfortingly, then followed her into the brush. The rest of the troop had already heard the news, and were gathering in curiosity. Would this human Young look like him? Why else would one of their babies be wandering in the dark? When the Jungle was at its most dangerous?_

_It wasn’t difficult to find her. Her pale, hairless skin nearly glowed in the scant moonlight filtering through the trees. The other gorillas paused in surprise. They were well used to the dark-skinned humans, as strange as they looked without fur or even the scales he had. But this one was even more different._

_King did not like the looks of her, or the smell. Too foreign. Not like them._

_But Mother loved her at once…as Mother loved everyone. And she was the first to approach._

_The human froze, the smell of fear permeating the air as Mother approached. But Mother moved slowly, her head held downward, so not to appear threatening._

_The human, amazingly, kept her eyes downward as well, and knelt respectfully. He did not think he’d ever seen a human behave so politely._

_Bae, heedless of King’s warnings, scampered out to join Mother, and the human smiled before covering her mouth with her hand._

_He knew what a smile was,_ how _he knew what it was he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t smiled…ever, to his knowledge. But he knew that it was a happy expression, not a menacing one the way it was to gorillas. But the human Young was clearly quite smart, and knew also that smiles were not happy to gorillas._

_Perhaps it was that which made him step out of the shadows. He had not been near a human since he was a tiny child, far smaller than this one before him. He was usually careful to not let them see him. But this human was no threat, she was only lost. Perhaps she wouldn’t fear him so…_

_Bae, upon spotting him, leapt into his arms, and the human turned around, eyes widened when they landed on him. But she did not scream, did not run. He could not make out her features very well in the dark, but he could see the way she tilted her head to one side._

_But then…then there were noises. Screaming and loud bangs._

_Before he could even react the human was running. Not away from them, but back toward her nesting ground. He could smell the fear radiating off of her in waves as she passed._

_Mother knew something was wrong. She had seen humans, other humans, approaching the Human Nesting Ground. Mother pleaded with him to make sure the little human made it home. So he handed Bae to her and leapt into the trees, swinging effortlessly toward the human place._

_When he put his feet back on the ground, he was closer to the Human Nesting Ground than he’d ever been before, and fear bubbled sickeningly in his gut._

_Men and women were screaming and fleeing into the jungle. Their nesting ground burned behind them. Other humans, dressed very differently, were chasing them, killing them with those terrible Thunder Sticks._

_He was just about to turn back, back to the safety of his Troop, hoping the little human had found protection, when he saw her again._

_A large human male was hovering over her, and she was laying on her back, gasping for air._

_The first thought his mind provided was the male was going to eat her, but no…that was not the human way. He knew that. Then what…_

_That was when he saw the male’s hand pulling at his own clothing and he knew. The male was going to rut her, but that was wrong! She was far too young, he couldn’t smell even the hint of maturity about her, and she was crying._

_He barely even hesitated to kill the male. He wasn’t supposed to kill except for food, Mother told him so, and_ never _a human. But a male who would hurt and rut an innocent little Young was no human in his eyes. Even animals knew better._

_She was still laying down after the deed was done, and he was worried he had been too late to save her from harm, but when he leaned over to get a good look at her, she appeared unhurt. And for the first time, he could see her face clearly. He didn’t think he had ever seen eyes that color before._

_He pulled her to her feet, then tried to pull her with him. Mother would care for her, and he would keep her safe. Safe from those horrible humans that would hurt her._

“Belle!”

“Papa!”

 _He flinched at the sudden sounds of words he could_ almost _understand, and he retreated up into the trees, out of sight. But he watched intently as the little human ran into the arms of a human male that looked more like her. He held her tightly and she cried into his chest._

_Her family, then. He was glad she was safe, but a little disappointed that he could not take her with him. He perhaps wouldn’t have minded the company of someone a little bit more like him._

_But then, she wasn’t like him, either. No one was. And it was better that she remain with her kind._

_But bad humans were still in his Jungle, and he needed to return to his Troop, and see them all safe as well._

_He hoped he would see that little human again someday._

_Present Day_

In truth, Rum had forgotten all about that blue-eyed child until she came, quite literally, stumbling back into his life. It hadn’t taken him long to remember, and to connect Belle with that child from before, but suddenly the child was not one anymore, and Rum had been completely unsure of what to do with a female human he had been instantly and uncontrollably attracted to.

When Rum had gone through the same sexual maturity as his male peers in the troop, it was expected of him to find a mate. But Rum was well aware of the fact that he was not a gorilla, and had come to terms early on with the fact that he would never have a mate, and he was fine with that. He had the troop, he had Bae…

But Belle…Belle was different. From the moment he saw her again, from the moment he was close enough to smell her, from the moment he heard her voice…he was hers. Totally and completely.

In the past six months, Belle had taken his hand and given him _life_. She taught him something new every day, and every day he was more in awe of her.

And on this day, almost exactly six months since she’d taken his hand and made him a husband, his Belle appeared to be ready to teach him something else. If what she was doing to their home was any indication.

 

Rum had left early that morning to pay a visit to his lion friends, and though he’d invited Belle along of course, she’d declined. Saying she had things around their newly built treehouse that she wanted to do.

“You’re home!” she exclaimed, peering down at him from her vantage in the tree. She was wrapping a length of leaves and flowers woven together in a long rope round and around the railing in front of their door.

“What is that?” he asked.

“Come up and see for yourself!” she said, giving him a smile that never failed to warm his insides delightfully.

He scaled the rope ladder that led to their house like it was nothing, following her into the dwelling and blinking at the sudden changes in decoration.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t _used_ to Belle tidying and decorating their little nest. She was forever flitting about like a little bee, filling their living space with flowers. Especially roses. But this was certainly different.

There was a small, leafy, green shrub stood up in the corner, and there were things hanging from the branches. On closer inspection, he could see that it was a mixture of small flowers and Belle’s own jewelry. On top of the shrub was a shiny metal star.

“Do you like it?” Belle asked, standing behind him with her hands behind her back, looking a bit shy.

“Pretty,” he said, still very confused but not about to insult her by not first remarking on the genuine beauty of it. “But…why?”

“It’s a Christmas tree!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her toes adorably. “Well…it isn’t _really_ a Christmas tree. I mean…it isn’t an _evergreen_ tree. Those aren’t exactly easy to come by around here! This is what my parents used to do when I was little. All of our old ornaments were destroyed in the fire…” she trailed off, and Rum’s heart fell as her face did. But she rallied herself, taking a deep breath. “Do you…do you remember Christmas, Rum?”

He wracked his memory, finding the word rather familiar, but otherwise coming up blank. “No. What is it?”

Her cheerful little grin was back, and she moved to her little “Christmas tree”, adjusting the decorations but still holding one hand behind her back. “It’s a very special holiday. It marks, well, a rather prominent birthday…I can read you that story later. But it’s a day for family, peace, and love, and joy. It’s a wonderful holiday. The Hadithi don’t celebrate it, but my parents always observed the day for me. And then in England, oh Rum you should have seen it! The halls of my school would be covered in garland and holly, and in the library would be the biggest evergreen tree you’ve ever seen! And all of us girls would make our very own ornaments.”

She finally revealed what she’d been hiding, handing him a small round piece of wood, apparently shaved from the branch of a tree. It had a little gold string threaded through a hole on top, and Belle had painted their names in a way that wove the letters together beautifully.

“Our first Christmas,” she said quietly. “It’s special.”

“Beautiful,” he said reverently, taking the ornament she’d clearly worked very hard on carefully in his hands.

“Would you like to hang it on the tree?”

Smiling, Rum found a prominent branch on the shrub and placed the ornament there.

“I like Christmas,” he told her honestly. But any event that created such happiness in his Belle he was bound to enjoy.

“It’s not over yet!” she exclaimed. “It’s only Christmas eve! Tonight we’ll go to Papa’s hut and we’ll sing songs, and he’ll tell us the story of Father Christmas!”

“…Father Christmas?”

She giggled. “Yes, and we’ll hang our stockings by the fireplace, and tonight while we sleep, Father Christmas will leave us gifts!”

Rum frowned, his head spinning from everything she was saying, but she only giggled again and leaned up to kiss his lips lightly.

 

Rum spent the rest of that afternoon in bemused wonder as Belle pulled him around the treehouse, explaining this and that Christmas tradition.

In truth he _did_ vaguely remember Christmas. But he didn’t think he had any _happy_ memories of the day. Belle seemed to have them in spades, and regaled him with amusing tales of her days at school with Ruby and Mary Margaret.

“…so Mary Margaret took clothes from Ashley’s closet and we used them to dress our snowman. A very fat, lopsided Snowman. Now, these clothes of Ashley’s cost more than probably everything everyone in this village owns, so you should have _heard_ her screeching when she woke up that morning. But I don’t know what made her angrier, us using her expensive clothing or the fact the snowman was hideous!”

Rum chuckled. “Not very nice.”

Belle stuck her nose in the air. “ _Ashley_ _Boyd_ wasn’t very nice. All of that was in retaliation because Anna told us she saw Ashley kissing Will, the stable hand.”

Rum quirked an eyebrow at her in question.

“Will was _my_ beaux! He’d given me my very first kiss only the day before, and Ashley knew that! She admitted that she deliberately sought him out to take him away from me.”

Rum frowned, not overly liking this talk of kissing other men.

“Oh, get that look off your face! I was fourteen years old, for heaven’s sake!”

That made him feel a _little_ better. “Did you punish the boy? For not being…”

“Faithful? And oh, believe me, we got Will too. Especially when we found out that he’d _also_ kissed Anna’s sister, Elsa.”

“What did you do?”

“Snuck into the hayloft where he slept and stuffed horse manure into his mattress.”

This time, Rum let out a full laugh. “You are trouble.”

Belle grinned wickedly at him. “And don’t you forget it!

“What are these?” he asked, holding up a long sock.

“Stockings! They’re mine from England, but I can use one and you use the other.”

He stuck his arm through the soft, silk stocking, rather liking the feel. “Why?”

She took the sock from him, and proceeded to hang them above the alcove they used as a fireplace. “We’ll hang them here, and Father Christmas will leave us gifts. Don’t worry, Papa will tell the whole story tonight, so you’ll understand better.”

 

That evening, Rum followed Belle to her father’s hut, which was decorated similarly. Maurice smiled and greeted him, but Rum could tell the smiles were a bit strained.

They sat around Maurice’s fire, eating chestnuts, and Belle and her father sang several pretty songs about thing such as snow, silence, and mostly about a child born in a stable. Rum listened passively, mostly enjoying the soft, breathy sound of his wife’s voice. She had complained before about having no talent for singing, but he personally thought she sounded like an angel.

Then Maurice, in low and dramatic tones, told them about Father Christmas, who brought gifts to all of the good children of the world in a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer.

“Flying reindeer?” Rum asked skeptically.

Belle giggled. “When I was a girl, I liked to imagine that he traded the reindeer in for antelopes when he reached Africa.”

“This is a fairytale, right, Belle?” Rum asked, well acquainted with Belle love of fairytales.

“It’s completely real,” she said, her expression fully serious.

Rum knew Belle would never lie to him, but he shot a very skeptical look at Maurice over her head, but he only smiled serenely.

After the story of Father Christmas, Belle read from the Bible about that child they had sung songs about. Rum found this marginally more believable, and found himself feeling a bit of a kinship to the boy born in lowly circumstances and placed among animals. But instead of making him think of the man and woman who gave him life, Rum was more reminded of mother who _saved_ his life.

When they prepared to return to their treehouse for the evening, Rum pulled Maurice aside while Belle was gathering roasted chestnuts to take back with them.

“Belle really believes about Father Christ…mas?”

Maurice chuckled. “Rum, my boy, you’re an inhumanly strong man-beast who has supernatural healing abilities coupled with the ability to pass that healing onto his wife. Is a man who can spread cheer across the world really that big of a stretch?”

Rum sighed, figuring he wasn’t bound to get a real answer. “Should I have gift for Belle?”

“If Belle cared about that, she would have let you know in enough time for you to find something. Just go with it. She…this isn’t the easiest time for Belle.”

Rum cocked his head to one side.

Maurice sighed. “Belle’s mother loved Christmas. And, well, it was close to Christmas when…well, when Collette died.”

“Oh,” Rum said, hanging his head. “It was this time…during the attack?”

“Yes. So I know it’s hard for her…for me too. But she just loves Christmas so much still, and I think it’s her way of holding on to her mother’s memory.”

Rum smiled sadly, but deliberately grinned brighter when Belle rejoined them.

They made their way slowly back home, holding hands and enjoying the quiet of the Jungle at night.

“I heard you and Papa talking,” she said.

Rum had figured as much. “Belle…okay?”

She nodded. “It never goes away. Missing her. But she was so… _lively_ , you know? She would never have wanted Papa or I to just sit around on her favorite day of the year being sad. Especially after so long spent apart. And I wanted to share it with you, too!”

Rum smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Belle. I…I had not realized. Did not…know of time back then…”

“I know,” she said hurriedly. “You couldn’t have known what time of year it was back when it happened.”

“Yes. But…my mother…I lost her too. That night.”

Belle gasping, stopping to turn and face him. “ _What_? Rum…you never told me that!”

He shrugged. “Told you she died. Hunters… _poachers_.”

“But I didn’t know you lost her that night of the attack. What happened? Was she…Rum…was it the one who found me first? With the baby?”

He nodded. “That was Bae. Mother saw you all alone, and it worried her. You reminded her of me, and she wanted to protect you.”

Tears sprung to Belle eyes. “So she never would have been so close to the village had it not been for me.”

“No, Belle!” he said, a bit too loudly, because it made her jump and some sleeping birds to take flight. He took her shoulders in his hands, squeezing to be sure he had her attention. “If you had not been in Jungle, you would have died. Nothing worth that. _Nothing_!”

“But she was your mother.”

“Yes,” he said, his smile sad and stained. “The men who attacked Hadithi came across gorilla troop later that night. Wanted to take Bae. Mother killed a man, but another man killed Mother. I tried to save her…but she asked me to run away with Bae. So I did.”

“You did the right thing,” Belle whispered. “Bae needed you.”

He nodded. He had thought about it before, that both he and Belle had become motherless that night, but it was such a painful subject for them both, that he hadn’t wanted to bring it up.

“Mother would have loved you,” he said.

“I wish I could have known her. And I wish you could have known _my_ mother.”

He nodded again and wrapped his arms around her. They returned to their house, and Belle lit candles and placed them on the tree. He thought that looked a tad dangerous, but didn’t dare comment.

They sat together in the warm glow for something, simply holding one another and enjoying the closeness. But soon Belle turned her head toward him, and he felt her lips on his neck.

He held still for her while she licked and suckled at his textured skin, wondering for the millionth time how she didn’t find it too strange to enjoy.

But she did enjoy him, and he couldn’t deny it if he tried.

“Take me to bed, Rum,” she whispered, sending chills through his body.

He wondered if he would ever grow _used_ to touching Belle, if it would ever feel anything less than electric. He didn’t think so. He certainly hoped not.

On the contrary, instead of growing used to it, he seemed to learn something new about her body every time he loved her. A new spot that made her whimper when he bit it, a place that turned out to be ticklish, an angle she didn’t much care for but brought him extreme pleasure, so they wordlessly fought over it. Of course it was she who wanted him to have the pleasure, and he only seeking hers.

This night, she didn’t seem all that inclined to do anything but let him have his own way. She lay in relaxed rapture as he kissed every inch of her skin he could find, gasping and moaning to urge him on. It was rare that she was so pliant, usually it was a constant grapple for control, a contest to see who could make the other come first, but this soft surrender was heady all on its own.

He nibbled at her hip, a rather strange spot that was incredibly sensitive to her, and she wriggled delightfully. He kissed her slender yet strong legs, but before he made it to the juncture of her thighs, he pulled away, causing her to whine quietly.

He chuckled at her pouting face, and gently rolled her over. If she was going to be so cooperative, he was quite determined to take advantage. He gave her backside the same treatment he gave her front, licking and nipping and kissing all across her shoulders and down to the small of her back. Her whimpering and panting increased, and he smirked. It would seem he was finding all sorts of new spots.

His hands stroked and fondled her plump arse, and she chuckled, well aware of his affinity for it. He bit it sharply in punishment for laughing, but she only yelped and giggled some more. He kissed down the backs of her legs, lingering a long time on the backs of her knees when it made her squirm and cry out.

“Rum…” she breathed, and he looked up to find her clutching the sheet desperately. It was costing her to remain so still, and it deserved a reward.

He snuck a hand between her thighs and the sound she made would be one she would deny to the ends of the earth. It caused her to buck up a little, but that made it much easier for him to get his mouth to her, so he pulled her up gently by the hips, until she was on her knees, while her face still pressed into the pillows.

He pulled back for just a moment to look, and if it was even possible, his erection surged even further.

Seeing her so trustingly displayed and at his mercy triggered something in him that he didn’t know was there. He fastened his mouth on her, sucking and licking furiously, while she moaned loudly.

“Rum please!” she sobbed.

She didn’t need to say the words for him to know she needed him, and by God, he needed to be inside her more than life.

But should he turn her back over? She was making no moves to do it herself, and though she was offering herself to him, would taking her that way be too animalistic for her?

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, chuckling breathlessly.

“This is…okay?” he gasped, unable to keep from stroking her arse so displayed before him.

“If it’s what you want,” she said, turning her head to look at him with hooded eyes. “And I do believe it is.”

He sat up on his knees and bent over her back, snaking an arm under her to pull her up on her hands. This afforded him ample access to her breasts.

When he slid into her, they both groaned sharply. It felt rather different this way, tighter somehow. But he would never lose himself to pleasure too much that he wouldn’t make sure she was enjoying it as well.

“Oh _Christ_ , Rum! Move already!”

He supposed she was.

He thrust into her gently at first, just to make sure, but soon she was giving up on her efforts to be still and was rocking back into him.

Watching himself slap against her was incredible, but something else had him bending over her again, almost without consciously meaning to, and fastening his mouth to the back of her neck.

She screamed them, and he almost froze, except she was still moving desperately, one hand swinging back to claw at his arm.

He bit down a bit on her skin, knowing already how much pressure was pleasure before it became pain for her.

With his face in her hair, her scent in his nostrils, her skin in his mouth, his entire body rubbing against hers, and his cock buried deep inside her, he was completely and entirely surrounded by Belle. It must be what Heaven felt like.

He let go with a shout, relieved to feel her body clenching hard around him, so that he knew she’d found her release as well.

They collapsed in a heap, breathing heavily.

After a long moment he rolled off of her, allowing her to turn over so that they could lay face to face on their sides.

“That was fun,” she said, smirking.

He chuckled. “Yes. Unex…unexpected.”

“Happy Christmas, my Rum.”

“Happy Christmas, Belle.”

 

 

Rum woke up some time later, but it was still dark. He lay still, trying to ascertain what had awakened him until he heard a rustling coming from the other side of the curtain that separated their bed from the rest of the house. His eyes flew open and for just a moment he thought that everything Belle had said about Father Christmas was true. But then he rolled over, and saw that his wife wasn’t in bed.

With a fond smile, he closed his eyes again and feigned sleep as Belle crawled back into bed, curling up against his back.

He waited a long time until he could hear her soft snores before carefully creeping out of bed.

He could see that there was something in his stocking, and a curious peek inside showed a small box. He didn’t investigate any farther, content to let himself be surprised for Belle’s sake, and instead looked into her own.

His wife had placed fruit into her own stocking. He shook his head, holding in a chuckle. If her stocking had been empty, it would have ruined the illusion of Father Christmas, and Rum would have been upset that his stocking held a present while hers didn’t.

Silly woman.

Checking again to make sure Belle was sound asleep, he slipped out of the house.

To be honest, he would have _liked_ a little forewarning about the holiday so that he could have found a proper gift. Especially since Belle enjoyed it so much.

But he would just have to be prepared next year. For tonight, he had an idea. But he’d better hurry before his wife awakened and found her husband gone.

 

“Rum wake up! It’s Christmas!”

Rum moaned, feeling as though he’d only just closed his eyes when his wife was suddenly tackling him.

“Wake UP sleepyhead!”

He opened his eyes and smiled at the childlike look on her face. As tired as he was, he couldn’t bear to stay in bed when Belle was so excited, so he dragged himself up and followed her eagerly into the living room, determined to show the correct amount of enthusiasm.

“Look! Father Christmas has been here!”

Sure enough, a lovely new steam trunk sat beneath the tree. Rum had helped Maurice haul it up into the treehouse in the wee hours of the morning.

Belle opened it excitedly, and squealed to see that it was filled with brightly wrapped gifts. So _that_ was why it was so heavy.

“They’re from all our friends!” she exclaimed, beginning to take them out and put them into separate piles. “From Ruby, David and Mary Margaret, Jefferson…”

He looked at the two piles in confusion until Belle shoved one of them closer to him. “These are yours, Rum!”

He blinked. “Mine?”

She giggled. “Of course! Don’t worry, I had all of the gifts from us signed from us both.”

So _that_ was what all those packages were for months ago.

“Oh and look!” she said. “This one is from Johari!” she held up a beautiful water jug and wash bowl.

“I thought Hadithi do not celebrate.”

“Not traditionally, no, but gifts are fun, no matter what! You can come with Papa and me later today to give candy to the children.”

“I’d like that.” 

“Before we open these, we’d better check our stockings!”

Rum smiled as she darted to the stockings, all but ripping them off the wall and bringing them back to plop back down beside him. He just couldn’t get over her youthful exuberance, and was finding himself more and more enamored with the holiday by the minute. He couldn’t wait until next Christmas, so he could participate fully, and make it just as wonderful and magical as she deserved.

She looked at him pointedly, waiting for him to open his stocking, her own laying forgotten in her lap.

He peeked inside, and slid a hand in to come back with a box about the size of his outstretched hand. It was plain except for the blue ribbon holding it closed, and he recognized the ribbon as one Belle often wore in her hair. He untied it carefully, intending to keep it unless she asked for it back.

Inside the box were two things; one was a small gorilla figurine painted to resemble Bae, and the other was a gold ring with a blue gem on it.

“Old Mosi carved the gorilla for me,” she explained. “But I painted it! And the ring, well, that was my grandfather’s ring. You needn’t wear it if you don’t want to, but I have a wedding ring and I thought that…well, you should have it.”

“I love it,” he whispered, sliding it on the same finger Belle wore her wedding band on. He was surprised it fit, since he seemed to have more slender fingers than most. “And I love my little Bae, it is _beautiful_ , Belle. Both are.”

She flushed happily. “You can tell it’s Bae! I’m glad.”

“What about you?” he asked, looking at her stocking. “Did Father Christmas bring you a gift?”

Belle smilingly rolled her eyes and dug into her stocking. “Oh you know he…what’s this?”

She’d already removed the fruit she’d placed inside herself, and was surprised to find something else underneath.

He had found some reeds in the river to weave together until they formed a ball, and inside the ball he had placed a crude heart that he’d carved from a piece of wood and suspended with a string. His lioness friend had helped by showing him where a tooth had fallen from her eldest daughter’s mouth, and he used it to fasten the ball securely closed on top, with more string to hang it with.

“Ornament,” he explained, wincing at how lopsided it looked in the daylight.

Belle was silent for so long he almost snatched the thing away from her in embarrassment, but then she was cradling it gently to her chest and brushing tears away with her free hand.

“Rum…did you, did you _make_ this? Last night?”

He shrugged.

Before he knew it, his wife was launching herself into his lap, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. “Oh you sweet, _sweet_ man! It’s beautiful! I love it so much!”

He wasn’t embarrassed anymore, but a little concerned when she kept crying.

“D…don’t cry…” he said pitifully, awkwardly patting her back.

She sat back, still sitting across his lap, and chuckled as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She missed one, and he stopped its downward descent with the tip of his finger.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re just so sweet for getting into this holiday for me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before, I guess I was just a little afraid you wouldn’t like the idea, and I thought I could win you over if I showed you how beautiful it could be.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to remind her that _anything_ that made her happy made him happy as well, but he stopped himself. “I do like it, Belle. I think next year will be more better.”

She grinned and kissed him again. When he deepened the kiss, she moaned appreciatively.

“There’s one more thing I haven’t shown you,” she said, leaning over to reach into the steam trunk, coming back with a sprig of greenery tied together with a shiny red bow. Rum frowned in confusion when she dangled it over his head. “It’s mistletoe! When you’re under it, you must be kissed. It’s the rule, and is _not_ to be ignored.”

She demonstrated by kissing him soundly, and afterward, with his mind still spinning, he took the tiny plant to examine it. “I think this…my favorite.”

They would open their other gifts later, before they would join Maurice in delivering candy to the Hadithi children. And Rum would carry the mistletoe with him the entire day, repeatedly holding it over Belle’s head, and sometimes playfully having to chase her down with it, so he could kiss her giggling mouth. Maurice would smile fondly and the children would laugh and cheer.

But first, the hour was still early, and the village was asleep, and it was Rum’s turn to hold still while Belle had her way.

Christmas was a time for joy and love, after all.


End file.
